Strangers of Hope
by BeyondJustReading
Summary: Zuzia Baros is a transfer patient to Ocean Park Hospital. So recently thrown into a world full of tests, medications, and illness, she finds it hard to cope. That is, until she meets a particular group of kids.
1. Chapter 1

_"Bardzo boli?"_ Angelo asked as he moved my foot back and forth.

"Yeah," I breathed, "A little."

I tried to keep my fists clenched behind my back so he couldn't tell exactly how much pain I was really in. I felt bad. I was in physical therapy for two, almost three, months now and there have been no signs of improvement. My mom likes to blame it on my podiatrist, I like to blame it on my neurologist – who, honestly, I don't see a point in seeing -, and Angelo likes to blame it on faulty test results. I've had two inconclusive MRIs and a fairly normal nerve conduction test. There's nothing pointing to me being injured, other than excruciating pain whenever I step on my left heel.

Angelo leaned back and I relaxed, letting go a relieved sigh.

"Alright, how's the back pain been?" He asked.

I shrugged, "It's been consistent you know? I still can't twist to the left as much as I can to the right and it's only in that one spot."

He frowned and let his glasses fall to his nose from the place where they were perched on the top of his head. I knew this meant he was thinking. I let him poke around for a bit, trying to keep my flinches moderate.

Pulling back, Angelo looked defeated, "Let's do STIM and call it a day."

Compliantly nodding I rolled my pant leg up. There was no use arguing with him to let me do some exercises. I can barely walk without a crutch and I already toppled over once at therapy because of "strenuous activity," as he called it.

Angelo patched me up then went to go work with his other patient there. My phone so gracefully died during the ultrasound treatment, so I was left with awkwardly staring around the room.

There were five other people in there with me. A grown, fairly hefty, man was in the gym exercising his shoulder injury quite loudly. Just a little louder and his grunts would be echoing throughout the building. Another girl, who I learned was named Juana, also had a shoulder injury and she sat directly across from me on STIM texting. Then there were the two fraternal twins. The girl was stretching her calf and the boy was getting his neck worked on by the other physical therapist. To my left, Angelo animatedly chatted with a woman getting treatment for Carpal Tunnel Syndrome.

It's not that I was jealous of these people because, honestly, why would I be jealous of physically hurt people? It's just… They had the certainty that after a few weeks or months of PT, they'd be set – and all I knew for myself was that I was most likely still going to be here.

I laid back onto the table and closed my eyes.

"Hon this isn't your bed and breakfast," I heard Angelo mumble above me.

Blinking awake, I smiled, "Sorry, I'm just tired."

"I can see that," he laughed, unhooking me from the machine, "You're free to go ma'am."

He grandly gestured towards the exit. I laughed as I slid to the edge of the table to slide my orthotic sneakers on. Another perk about having foot issues, your shoe wardrobe was always set.

I hopped down from the table, "See ya Friday Ange!"

He looked up and waved from wiping down my table. I placed a hand on the wall to steady myself on my journey to the front door.

My stomach dropped.

I felt a lump in my throat.

I glanced down and called out, _"Ange!"_

"Yeah?" He called back.

I heard his footsteps approaching.

"My – " My throat was too dry.

I couldn't talk.

Angelo walked in front of me.

He grabbed my arms.

I looked up at him.

And felt myself falling to the floor.

_"SHIT,"_ Angelo shouted, "Rich, call an ambulance!"

"Zuzia… _Zuzia…"_ I knew that voice.

"Mama?" I wearily asked, trying to open my eyes. I was just so tired.

"Yes honey," She said, "Just sleep. You've had a long day."

"Nah, I'm good," I whispered, forcing my eyes open. My mom was sitting next to me with a book in her lap. I looked up at a white tiled ceiling. Only then did it register where I was.

"Why are we in here?" Sudden panic swallowed my chest.

She reached over and patted my head, explaining what happened at Angelo's.

"Knock knock," A female doctor cheerfully said at the doorway before I even had any time to react to the information my mom just gave me.

My mom gave me a reassuring smile, but in a sudden wave of nerves, I couldn't make eye contact with the doctor. Social anxiety does that to a person. I twiddled with my bed sheets instead. My go-to coping method was nail biting, but when I glanced down at them, there was nothing left to bite.

"Hello Zuzia, my name is Dr. Nasiek. How are you feeling?" She asked from the end of my bed.

"Good," I mumbled into my chest.

"Lovely," She said on such a high octave level I thought I might my go deaf, "Well. Your MRI scan came back."

I looked at my mom, she squeezed my hand.

Dr. Nasiek pinned the results to the lights on the wall, found the area she wanted to call out, and turned to us not removing her finger. I looked back down at my lap when she faced us again.

"I'm not going to beat around the bush because I believe that is the worst thing to do in a situation like this," He voice grew so serious, I wanted the bed to just envelope me so I'd disappear, "This is a picture of your spinal cord, Zuzia. This small mass to the left of vertebrae numbers T8 and T9 – that is a tumor."

My head jerked up when my mom gasped and crushed my hand.

Nasiek continued to power through though, "Now in the PET scan results, we did confirm that it is cancerous."

My mom's grip tightened.

"Now this cannot be confirmed through testing, but there is a high chance that, since it is a vertebral tumor, it will metastasize. You fainted yesterday, Ayla, because your thoracic spine section is slowly… _giving out_ let's say. A common symptom of spinal cancer is paralysis of varying degrees. Mrs. Baros, you briefed us on Zuzia's continuing foot problems. This is also indicative of this cancer. Her difficulty walking, muscle weakness, numbness, and loss of sensation in regards to temperature differentiation, determining whether something is sharp or rounded, etc. are all leading symptoms. Her age is the only thing that most likely threw the doctors off. Sixteen isn't the prime age for spinal cancer."

She touched her perfectly fixed blonde bun as if to recuperate after a harsh blow, then said, "I'll leave you to process the information for a little while. An oncologist is on his way to talk about treatment he recommends."

With that, her heels clicked out of the room and I finally looked up.

_"Kochanie…"_ My mom began with one of the many pet names she gave me. Her arms quickly surrounded me. I didn't know what to do. I was in shock. I was just told I had cancer. Was I really supposed to be consoling my mother?

She pulled away just when the oncologist came in. She sat back in her chair and wiped her eyes.

"Hello Mrs. Baros," The old man smiled, "Zuzia."

I looked out the window.

"My name is Dr. Braver. I'm sure Dr. Nasiek briefed you on Zuzia's condition?" He asked. I heard him drag up a chair.

"Yes," my mom stifled out.

"Good, good," He muttered. There was paper rustling.

"Our facility is not equipped to handle this sort of tumor. Chemotherapy is not typically recommended for spinal cord cancer patients as it can impair nerve function and cause more complications than benefits. I have a list of hospitals I would find it best to transfer Zuzia to. I highly recommend Ocean Park Hospital in Los Angeles, California. A former student of mine works there in pediatrics and I can assure you, you will be put into good hands."

Dr. Braver weakly smiled and patted my leg as he stood up, then handed the list to my mom. My head was swimming. California? That's on the other side of the country. I'd have to leave everything behind. My school, my friends, my life – all tucked away into the past.


	2. Chapter 2

The decision was made. It was too late to take it back. I stepped into the LAX airport terminal. This was going to be my new home for the next couple of weeks – months? I wasn't really registering anything. A man came out to wheel me to a hospital van and before I knew it – I was there. I was there in my new home.

I stood from my wheelchair, thanked the man for putting up with my brooding, and walked up to the front desk.

"Hello?" I asked meekly. The plane ride over gave me a massive migraine, whenever I tried to talk I'd feel it pulsating into my head. I dressed far too warmly for the Californian winter weather. When I left Jersey, it was below freezing, and when I got outside of LAX, I almost died of heatstroke. The temperature was a whopping 65 degrees; Wheelchair Man expressed great concern for my well-being when I almost passed out in the chair. I was wearing a knitted navy beret, a thick yellow sweater, on top of that my black pea coat all paired with olive green corduroys and brown Uggs. I clearly did not think it through.

Throughout the car ride to Ocean Park, I was slowly peeling off my top layers and ended up entering into the building with only my cream tank top on .

"Hello dear," The woman at the desk looked me over. Her blue eye shadow reached her eyebrows and her mascara was so thick it smudged the skin around her eyes every time she blinked.

"How may I help you? Visiting someone?"

"Uh no actually," I awkwardly laughed, "I'm uh… Checking in? I guess that's what you can call it. I'm a transfer patient from New Jersey… Zuzia Baros."

"Ah! Ms. Baros!" A man's voice sounded from behind the desk. He made his way around, dropping off a stack of patient files in a metal basket. A man quickly scooped them up before they could even hit the basket bottom.

The man who addressed me seemed to be a doctor – white jacket, stethoscope, everything about his appearance pointed to it – and he was young. Maybe late thirties? His hair was only partially grey and he had some scruff on his face.

"My name is Dr. McAndrew," He extended his hand out to me. I shook it hesitantly.

"I will be your doctor for the duration of your stay here at Ocean Park. You were recommended by Dr. Braver, correct?" He continued. I slowly nodded.

"Great man he is, great man, but come, walk with me. I'll bring you up to your floor and you can get situated before we begin discussing how this all works," Dr. McAndrew smiled and took both my carry-on suitcase and my luggage from my hands. I was left clutching my bundle of clothes.

We made our way to the elevator. Honestly, it took us longer than it should have. I stupidly put my crutches in my luggage and I was starting to feel the ache in my leg.

McAndrew stopped walking and put out his arm as his to catch me, then said, "Do you want a wheelchair Zuzia? It wouldn't be a problem."

I sucked in my breathed and shook my head vehemently, "No, no. I'm fine really. I can do it."

The doctor gave me a small smile and nodded. I guess I wasn't as good as I thought I was at hiding it. That or everyone else was just trying to humor me. Dr. McAndrew didn't seem like the humoring type.

"So," McAndrew said as we stepped into the elevator, "Was your flight okay?"

I nodded and nestled myself into the corner of the elevator.

"Is your mother with you? I was hoping to speak with her as well about our course of action," He asked.

I shook my head, "My mom couldn't get off work for this long. And my grandmother's sick so she couldn't find an apartment here to rent for a while. My grandma needs round the clock care."

McAndrew nodded and said, "We'll Skype her."

He tried to hide the disappointment – or was that worry? – in his eyes. The rest of the ride was silence until we hit Floor 4 Pediatric Cancer Ward. He gently nudged me forward out of the corner and we stepped out.

"Nurse Kenji!" McAndrew called out. A male nurse jumped up from surprise, but then smiled. His smile took up the majority of his face. I couldn't help but light up in return.

"This is Zuzia Baros. She's our newest patient," McAndrew handed the bags over to Kenji, "Could you please show her to her room?"

"By all means," Kenji said, "Right this way honey."

I giggled and started walking away with Kenji.

"See you later Zuzia!" McAndrew called out. I turned and saw him waving to me. I returned the gesture.

"Zuzia – that's a nice name," Kenji said. I tried my best to keep up with his brisk pace, but I was staggering behind him.

"Thanks," I huffed out, "It's Polish for Suzanne_._"

"I knew it sounded familiar!" He laughed, "I do have to say though, it sounds much better in Polish."

"Agreed," I said.

All of a sudden he swiveled on his heel. I skidded to a stop.

"Here's your room, honey," Kenji gestured to the empty hospital room. I stared at it through the glass, slowly trying to catch my breath. There was a single bed pushed closer to the window with clean white sheets stretched over the mattress, a white wardrobe opposite the bed under a TV mounted on the wall, a monitor looming over the head of the bed, a moss green two-person couch pushed all the way against the wall with the window, and a lone stool on wheels was in the middle of the room.

"You'll personalize it in no time. Don't you worry," Kenji said softly then took a step back, "Would you mind sliding the door open?"

"Not at all, sorry," I whispered. I wanted to keep it a secret my leg was metaphorically on fire.

I pushed the door open and gestured for Nurse Kenji to walk in first. He smiled and bowed into the doorway. I followed after him. Kenji threw my carry-on onto the bed – _my _bed – and set my luggage at the foot of my bed.

"Do you want help unpacking?" He asked, clasping his hands together, "Or would you rather let this all sink in on your own? I won't be offended if you want me out."

Chuckling I said, "Yeah actually, I think I want to unpack alone. Just take in the sterile-ness of this place."

"Of course," Kenji complied, "Call button is right there on the wall if anything happens."

I nodded and watched him walk out of the room. The second he shut my door and I couldn't see him anymore I collapsed on my bed.

I could feel every muscle, tendon, and nerve all the way up to my left hip. I felt like detaching my leg would be better at that moment than just putting up with the pain I was feeling. There were pins-and-needles running up and down the inside of my leg, a burning in my Achilles, and my knee practically gave out on me.

Leaning my head back onto my pillow, I stared up at the white tiled ceiling. Do all hospitals have the same ceiling? Does every single freaking hospital hire the same architectural team?

That's when I snapped. I let it all out. All that I was bottling up since I was diagnosed last month. Man, did I ugly cry. I swear I looked like I was being exorcised. I didn't care who would hear me. I mean, crying must be pretty common in hospitals? Even nasty crying like mine.

I don't know how long I went on, but I guess it was long enough to catch someone's attention.

"Hey!" A small voice said from my door. I sat up abruptly. A short, brown-haired, brown-eyed girl stood in the doorway. Hurriedly, I wiped my face trying to clear all evidence of tears, but in vain obviously. There's no way she just stopped by for a friendly chat with a stranger.

"Hi," I responded. I didn't mean to sound as rude as I probably did.

"Are um… Are you okay?" She asked, taking a step into my room.

I looked down at my hands, trying to get an answer to come out of my mouth but before I could respond, she saved me from my embarrassment, "It's all a bit much, yeah?"

I lifted my eyes and nodded, whispering, "Yeah."

She walked over to me and stuck out her hand, "Nice to meet you, I'm Emma."

I stared at her hand for a second too long before I took it and said, "Hi, I'm Zuzia."

"Do you want help unpacking?" Emma politely smiled and pointed to my bags.

"Uh, yeah sure… Yeah," I stammered. She smiled wider and lifted my big bag onto the bed.

"You take the luggage, I'll take the carry-on?" Emma suggested. I nodded and we switched spots. I carefully tried to put as little pressure on my left leg as possible until I got out my crutches. We stood there in silence for a little while, the only sound resonating through the room was the bags unzipping.

I dug through my heaps of clothing to the bottom of the bag where my crutches lied. I pulled them out; hypersensitive to the fact Emma was watching me out of the corner of her eye. Silently I adjusted the height from 5'2" to 5'8" on both crutches. I decided this was the time to use both and not embarrass myself trying to use one. I slid them one under each arm, heavily leaning on them, and then began to tackle my clothing.

"So," Emma said, trying to make conversation, "Did you come in today?"

"Uh yeah," I replied, "My flight got in at ten A.M."

"Oh wow, where're you from?" She asked, taking out my journals and putting them on my pillow.

"This small town in New Jersey," I said, "Kind of in the middle of nowhere, but I lived half an hour from New York City."

"Oh my god, that's awesome!" She laughed, "I've never been to New York, is it as glitzy as people make it out to be?"

I snickered, "To be honest, I hate going into the city. There's so much pollution I could barely_ breathe._"

That's how it went. Emma and I just talked. It was great. Not once did either of us mention each other's condition. It didn't seem to matter, which was reassuring.

She helped me organize my wardrobe. The drawers went from top to bottom: undergarments and pajamas, tops (organized tank tops to sweaters left to right), bottoms (lined up from shorts to long pants), and finally, shoes (even though I technically only should be wearing my sneakers). All my cosmetics went into the bathroom, only my toothpaste and toothbrush were left out on the sink, everything else was tucked away in the cabinet. She helped me put my pillow covers and bed sheets on my bed, smoothing them out as we went along. As a final touch, she tucked my bags under my bed and promised me she'd let me borrow some of her books if I ever wanted to.

"Emma!"

Both of us turned around at the voice. A one-legged kid crutched into my room.

"I was looking for you everywhere! I –" He started but Emma cut him off.

"Leo, meet Zuzia," She smiled, gesturing to me, "She's new."

"Oh sorry man," Leo said, he leaned onto one of his crutches and extended out his hand as far as he could, "I'm Leo, osteosarcoma. You?"

I copied his movements with the crutches so I wouldn't topple over and said, "Um, I'm Zuzia, as aforementioned. And uh, I have spinal cord cancer."

"Oh damn, that's one I haven't heard yet," Leo laughed, but Emma slapped him hard in the chest and he coughed to regain his composure.

"I mean, I'm sorry. That must be so tragic," He solemnly said, but I caught his eye and smiled so he knew I didn't really care too much that he was so chill with our illnesses.

"Ah! I see you've become acquainted with Emma and Leo already," Dr. McAndrew stepped in, "I hope I'm not intruding. I'd just like to speak with Zuzia for a bit."

Emma nodded and gently pushed Leo in the direction of the door.

"See you soon!" Both of them simultaneously called out.

McAndrew laughed and turned to me, "They're awesome kids. I'm glad you met them."

"Yeah, they seem pretty cool," I smiled, sitting down on my bed. I didn't want to ruin Emma's superb job but when your healthy leg is starting to go it's time to take a break.

McAndrew sat on the stool and rolled himself to my side as I settled myself into bed on top of the sheets. He graciously took my crutches from my hands and put them under the bed for easy accessibility.

"Alright, so I already talked with your mom about our plan of action. She's on board with it. I just want to run it by you, see if you have any questions or concerns," He began then paused and glanced down at my file like he wanted to assure himself that he was doing the right thing.

"Basically, you know you have a cancerous spinal tumor. And, when I looked at your PET scan more thoroughly, there is evidence that it has already spread into your bone marrow," He looked me hard in the eye and waited to see if I had any questions, but when I showed no sign of speaking up, he continued, "Now this doesn't mean you have leukemia and spinal cancer concurrently. You have what we call a 'metastasizing thoracic vertebral tumor.' Treatment is a little bit different now. Originally, we were going to do a decompression operation where we would remove the bone that has the tumor which increases the space around the spinal cord and nerves, therefore removing any pain or sign of illness. This is still in the future, but now we have to deviate slightly from our path. We're going to put you on chemotherapy to first eliminate the bone marrow issue. This could shrink the tumor in the spine or just leave it alone. If it shrinks the spinal tumor, we'll just continue on with chemo and that'll end that. If it doesn't, we will do the decompression operation."

I felt like I'd just been hit with a ton of bricks. All that information was just thrown at me and I couldn't help but feel overwhelmed.

"Zuzia? You good?" McAndrew asked, bending over trying to catch my eye.

I looked away and fighting off tears, I nodded.

"Hey hey hey," He said softly, standing up and moving to my bed, "There's no need to panic. You're in safe hands here."

I turned to McAndrew, by then I knew I was crying again, and I sputtered out, "I-I know. I'm just… scared."

McAndrew put his hands on my shoulders, "I know and it's alright to be. You have me to confide in. You have Emma and Leo. You have Nurse Kenji and Nurse Jackson. Your mom is just a phone call away. You are _never _alone."

I squeezed my eyes shut and nodded. I understood that.

McAndrew stood up from my bed, "Nurse Jackson will come in the morning for a check-up. I'll see you around Zuzia."

I don't know how long I stayed awake in bed after McAndrew left, but I was woken up by Nurse Jackson still fully clothed.


	3. Chapter 3

It was my second week at Ocean Park and it was going pretty smoothly. McAndrew decided today was the day I was going to start chemo. Nurse Jackson was going to take me down at noon, so I still had three hours to kill.

I mostly kept to myself. Emma stopped by a few times a day, Leo was sometimes with her. They wanted to introduce me to their other friends, but I told them I wasn't up to it. I knew I'd eventually have to meet them, but I still needed to get myself situated into the hospital before I started to try to be social.

When I wasn't in my room, I was in the "patient relaxation room" reading, but I always cleared out once others started coming in. I ate my meals in my room, what I could stomach of them at least. I usually got pretty full after a few bites. Nurse Jackson said it was normal for people with spinal cancer.

That was it really. My hospital life was as mundane as my regular life.

I was in bed flipping through _Jane Eyre _when Leo came in with an unfamiliar guy. He was tall, had floppy brown hair, and deep hazel eyes.

"Zuzia, meet Jordi," Leo exclaimed, "He's your chemo buddy!"

I couldn't hold back a guffaw, "What?"

"Jordi's got his chemo at noon today too!" Leo declared like an excited puppy, "You two will be together for it!"

Jordi and I looked at each other and laughed.

He stepped forward, we shook hands and he introduced himself, "Jordi."

"Zuzia," I said, smiling. Our hands lingered a bit before we pulled away.

From behind Jordi, Leo called out, "Okay well I've got PT, and so I better go. See you guys!"

Leo wheeled out of the room at lightning speed. He left Jordi and me in an uncomfortable silence.

"So uh… We still have like two hours before Nurse Jackson starts hunting us down," Jordi joked as he shuffled his way over to the couch.

"This is true," I concurred, "If you don't mind my asking, what do you have?"

"Nah I don't mind. I have Ewing Sarcoma; it's basically what Leo has except it's in my tissue instead of my bone. And you?" He nonchalantly explained, but then quickly added, "If you want to talk about it."

"Yeah sure, um I have spinal cord cancer that metastasized into my bone marrow. Technically I don't have leukemia but that's what the chemo's for," I described.

As stiff as we were in the beginning, we really loosened up and by the time Nurse Jackson came to collect us, we were talking up a storm.

I reached under my bed to grab my crutches, but Nurse Jackson stopped me.

"Uh-uh sweetheart," She said, "Get your butt in your wheelchair."

"Why?" I complained.

"Chemo's a bitch man, I'd take Nurse Jackson's word on this one," Jordi interjected, "I was wheeled there and back for my first month."

I crossed my arms but obediently scooted myself to the edge of the bed. Nurse Jackson pushed the chair over for me and I hopped right in. Jordi got behind me and pushed me as Nurse Jackson walked briskly in front of us. I could tell Jordi was in no rush. We got down to the chemo room and Jordi and I took our places in these massively cushioned, beige seats.

Nurse Jackson stayed and chatted with us until a new nurse, Nurse Mahn, took her place to set us up. He was a little old man that oddly reminded me of John Hurt. He had naturally spikey grey hair and a matching scruffy beard. His golden thin-wire glasses sat at the tip of his nose and he had a twinkle in his eye every time he talked.

He moved to Jordi first. I watched him as he did it. First he stuck a patch the size of a full-grown man's hand above Jordi's heart and attached two wires to it which led to a heart monitor machine behind his chair. Then Nurse Mahn put an IV on the top of Jordi's left hand which led to the medication. Seemed simple enough.

Then he moved onto me.

"Ah I see a new face," He said as he meticulously placed my heart monitor on.

I smiled in response because I didn't really know what to say to that. He leaned over me and pulled out a file folder from the back of my chair.

Leaning away from the papers he read, "Zuh-za?"

I laughed and pronounced for him, "Zoo-zya."

"My apologies," Nurse Mahn bowed his head then continued reading my file, "Okay so you're doing the intravenous method, you'll be here for a little over an hour, and we're doing the two-part system. Our first step, which is now, is induction, the regular chemo treatment. Then we move to post-remission, the treatment to make sure it won't come back. Basically one final sweep."

I nodded to show that I understood and he gave me one last reassuring smile before he injected me. I took a sharp intake of breath. I could automatically feel the difference. The chemo slowly crept up my arm from my left hand. I leaned my hand back and shut my eyes really tight.

"Hey, you good?" Jordi asked.

I let go the breath I didn't realize I was holding in and said, "Yeah I didn't know what I was expecting really."

"I get you," Jordi leaned his head back, "After my first chemo I thought I was invincible so my mom let me and Dash – he's a kid in here with cystic fibrosis, you'll meet him soon enough – go out to the movies. We couldn't even get into the theater before I passed out. The rest of the night I spent on the bathroom floor or shaking in my bed."

I guess the look on my face wasn't too attractive because Jordi quickly added, "Sorry that probably didn't make you feel any better."

"It's fine man. I watched my best friend go through the same kind of chemo I'm going through right now, so I know what to expect. Hair loss, mouth sores, nausea, the whole nine yards," I explained.

"Is he in remission now?"

There it was. The blow I should've prepared myself for.

"Um, no," I said into my lap, "He actually passed away four years ago. When we were eleven."

"Oh crap, I'm sorry Zuzia," Jordi reached out and intertwined his hand with mine for comfort. After that we idly chatted about our lives. I learned Jordi's on his way to becoming emancipated and he came here from Mexico just to find McAndrew. We exchanged stories about our friends and our lives before Ocean Park.

All while holding hands.

Once we were detached from our poisons, Jordi pushed me up to my room. I practically fell asleep in the chair. The chemo really drained me.

"Zuzia, you wanna get into your bed?" I could just barely hear Jordi's voice from above me. I tried to nod in response but all that came out was agreeable grumbling.

I felt myself being lifted and then I felt the softness of my bed sheets being pulled up to my chin. I fell asleep right then and there. Who knows how long later but I remember waking up gasping for the bathroom.

Jordi was lying on the couch in my room and he jumped up to his feet. He ran to my side and helped me to my feet. My legs crumbled underneath me even when I was leaning on his arm for major support, so he wrapped his arm around my waist half-dragged, half-carried me into my bathroom. I plopped down in front of the toilet and Jordi just managed to pull my hair back in time for me to throw up.

I hate to go into detail, but it was the longest vomiting spell I ever experienced. Once I was done with one, another wave would just overcome me. Jordi patiently stood behind me and held my hair back until I was done.

Resting my forehead against the toilet bowl's cool rim, I groaned, "Jordi, how long was I asleep?"

"It's 8:25 now, so about seven and a half hours," Jordi answered grimly.

"Yeah chemo's a bitch, man," I quoted him, weakly laughing.

"I'm gonna go get a nurse. You think you can manage here yourself for a second?"

I muttered an "of course," and he jogged out of the room to hit the call button.

Immediately, I heard a wave of footsteps rush into my room and Nurse Jackson's voice saying, "Jordi where's Zuzia?"

"She's in the bathroom, throwing up. She can't walk and I – I don't know she just threw up so much," Jordi sounded like he was in a panic.

I looked down into the toilet bowl and sure enough the sight was not pretty. Without thinking, I flushed it. The smell was making me sicker.

"Come on baby, let's go," Nurse Jackson came in and lifted me up off the bathroom floor. The second I got to my feet though, I fell again and vomited. They let me finish and then Nurse Jackson and Kenji each took me by an arm and led me into bed. Nurse Jackson tucked the sheets all around me and motioned for Kenji to go grab something.

"You're doing great baby," She tucked some hair behind my ear, "Dr. McAndrew is on his way. He just got out of a surgery and he's just cleaning up. He'll be here in no time."

I coughed and Nurse Jackson swooped in with a little pink dish. I waved it away. Kenji ran back in with a cool towel and he put it on my head.

"Can you tell me what hurts baby?" Nurse Jackson asked softly, taking the towel and dabbing it around my face.

In my feverish daze, I completely forgot how to respond in English. I started mumbling to her and Kenji in Polish, trying to tell them everything hurts. That I was really hot. That I was scared.

"Honey, you got to speak English to us or we can't help you," Kenji said, putting a hand on my shoulder.

I was trying to explain to them that I was trying. That I really was trying. Just nothing was coming out right. I became so frustrated, I just wanted to sleep. I started to close my eyes.

"Zuzia stay with me, stay with me now," I heard Nurse Jackson yelling.

I was so tired, she could understand that right?

"Adam! Get in here faster!" Nurse Jackson shouted.

My eyelids were opened and a light was shined into them. I was too weak to push it away.

"Zuzia I need you to tell me what the matter is," That was McAndrew. I didn't know his first name was Adam. I opened my mouth to say something but instead, embarrassingly enough, I vomited.

All over Dr. McAndrew.

I doubled over, my head hanging off the side of my bed. Nurse Jackson was going to straighten me out when McAndrew suddenly called out, _"Wait!"_

Everything stopped for a moment. I felt his hand pull back the collar of my button-down flannel. Then he pushed me back onto the bed. I felt him unbuttoning my shirt and taking off one sleeve.

"Epi-Pen! _NOW,"_ He demanded and within a split-second, I was stabbed in my thigh with what I presumed was an Epi-Pen. My entire body clenched up, and then I felt myself go completely limp. My breathing steadied. My head cleared up.

"Zuzia can you hear me?" McAndrew put a hand on my shoulder. I opened my eyes and he was right in front of me.

"Blink twice for 'yes,'" He told me. Twice. I blinked twice.

McAndrew relaxed and said, "Good. Now get some rest. We'll talk about this when you feel better."

He turned to the nurses and told them something then walked out of the room. Nurse Jackson slowly lifted me into a sitting position and said, "Alright hon, let's get you ready for bed."

The two of them stood guard at my bathroom door as I showered. I was sitting in one of those old people chairs so they could guarantee I wouldn't fall over. I was washing my hair quickly and small clumps started coming out. Then they helped me get my pajamas on because my left arm went numb and I wasn't in physical capability to stand on my own. I asked Nurse Jackson to help me tie a bandana around my hair for the night.

"What happened?" I whispered just as they were walking out of the room.

Both of them exchanged glances and Nurse Kenji smiled, saying, "I'll let Jackson take this one, girl. I've got to go and do some rounds."

He backed out of the room and Nurse Jackson stepped forward, "Well, you had some sort of allergic reaction and you went into anaphylactic shock. You were going through some chemo side effects also. It was just bad timing sweetie."

I nodded and looked down at my hands in my lap.

"I don't wanna be alone," I whispered.

There was slight hesitation before Nurse Jackson said, "I can send Jordi in. He's well enough. He's been camped outside of the room since we kicked him out."

I gave a meek smile and looked up at her, nodding. She nodded once at me with a smile and stepped out of the room. I patiently waited for Jordi to come back in.

"Hey," Jordi said as he meandered into my room.

"How much of that did you see?" I asked, suddenly extremely self-conscious.

"Not that much, don't worry," He reassured, "Kenji pushed me out as soon as you vomited for the second time."

I looked back up at him, "I apparently had an allergic reaction to something. And I was experiencing the chemo side effects at the same time."

He walked over to me and sat next to me on the bed.

"Is your hair falling out?" He pointed at my bandana.

I touched it self-consciously before I responded, "Yeah, it started falling out in the shower. I guess I can say goodbye to my cute asymmetrical bob."

"You'll grow it back soon," Jordi squeezed my hand, "The color might change though."

I snorted. Jordi and I made eye contact and burst out laughing. I put my head on his shoulder.

"Christmas is soon," I said, lost in my own thoughts.

"It is yeah," Jordi seemed taken aback from the sudden change of topic.

"I hope my mom can make it for the holiday," I said softly.

"I'm sure she'll come."

I nodded and yawned. I slowly laid down on my bed, lifting my legs with my hands onto Jordi's lap. He laughed and picked up back up. He stood up, placed them softly down on the bed, and moved to the couch.

I couldn't say I wasn't disappointed, but it weirded me out that I was.

All my life I had only been in relationships with other women, why was Jordi different all of a sudden? Was I just craving attention? I knew that I identified as bisexual, but I always thought I just had a preference for girls.

I adjusted myself onto my side so I could face Jordi.

"Lay with me," I giggled.

Jordi's cheeks turned a little pink, but he complied. He crawled into my bed with me. We ended up falling asleep spooning, his face buried in my neck and my arms entangled in his.


	4. Chapter 4

"Oh no! Oh _hell no!_" Nurse Jackson pulled open the shades to my room. Light flooded into the room. Jordi leaped to his feet from my bed and quickly scrambled out of the room, muttering his apologies to Nurse Jackson. I pushed myself upright in bed, trying to catch his attention before he ran out. He caught my eye, smirked, and winked. Then took off.

I bit my lip; I was so flustered, my cheeks burned.

"Care to explain yourself sweetheart?" Nurse Jackson asked sharply from the foot of my bed.

"What's there to explain?" I sighed, "I didn't want to be alone last night and Jordi didn't leave me alone."

"Do you have any idea what sort of danger that could've put you in?" Nurse Jackson scolded and she moved to the side of my bed, "You were just in anaphylactic shock last night. You need to think these things through Zuzia! I don't want to be hauling your ass out of a situation that doesn't need to happen."

"What do you think we were doing?" I asked, shocked, "Nurse Jackson! We weren't having s_ex. _Oh my god!"

"Oh I know you weren't having sex," She stated as-a-matter-of-factly, "Your heart monitor would be sounding off the wall."

I glanced down at the little heart monitor clipped to my left index finger. Nurse Jackson stepped closer to me with a clipboard in hand.

As she was recording my blood pressure and heart rate, she lectured, "Honey, I don't want to bring you down, but relationships in a hospital aren't always the best thing. You never know what could happen. I'm here to keep you healthy. Every part of you.

Dr. McAndrew will be in shortly to talk about what happened last night. I suggest you stay in here until then," She put a hand on my knee, "Please be careful."

I watched her as she left the room. Every feeling swooped in from last night with Jordi. I buried my face in my hands. He kept his arms around me all night, even when I started shivering, or had to adjust my position because my leg hurt, or when his arm fell asleep from underneath me.

"Zuzia! I'm so happy you're alright!" Emma said, running into the room, "Jordi just told us what happened last night!"

She ran up to my bed and gave me a quick hug.

"But Jordi said some _other _things happened?" She asked, raising an eyebrow, but then seriously added, "I hope nothing too much though. That would've been unnecessarily dangerous."

"Please Emma," I laughed, "I already got the speech from Nurse Jackson. She woke us up this morning when she came to check my vitals."

Emma looked taken aback.

"What is it?" I frowned.

"No, it's nothing," She said, sitting down on my bed, "It's just… Your designated nurse has to check your vitals every four hours."

I raised the head of my bed and leaned back onto it.

Then in disbelief I said, "Oh my god, she knew about it before. And she just let us be."

Emma and I exchanged smiles, but she scurried out of the room once Dr. McAndrew showed up.

"Good morning, Zuzia!" He exclaimed cheerily, "How do you feel today?"

"Better," I said, "Sorry I threw up on you last night."

"Hey, it's not a problem," He chuckled, "It has to happen at least once in a doctor's career."

He pulled up the stool and clasped his hands together, bracing himself for the talk ahead of him. I'll spare the boring details, but in summary, McAndrew notified me that I have an allergy to medical adhesive tape. So now every time I go in for chemo, I need to have the IV gauzed to my hand and I need to wear the finger heart monitor instead. He informed me my next chemotherapy sessions were going to be once a week every Wednesday and that they'll try to keep the times consistent.

"Also, if you want, I don't mean to sound pushy, but we could arrange for your head to be shaved sometime this week," He ended the discussion with, "It's suggested for chemotherapy patients. If you don't shave, your hair will most likely grow back thinner and unhealthier than previously."

I pulled my bandana tighter around my head, but agreed with McAndrew. He left my room with that and I was left all alone.

I decided there was nothing better to do but to wander around the hospital. I reached for my crutches under the bed but my stomach dropped when I didn't feel them there. I checked the other side. Nothing. Looking around the room, I spotted them. They were leaning against the opposite wall, probably put there by one of the nurses so I'd be forced to use my chair. The only problem was… my chair was folded up next to my wardrobe.

I groaned, but scooted my butt to the edge of the bed, my legs lifelessly hanging off the side. There was no way this was going to be easy.

With a strong push, I fell to the floor. Slowly, but steadily, I scooched my way over to my chair, but before I could get to it, I felt a presence looming over me. Both hands on the chair, I looked over my shoulder.

A teenage girl with dyed blonde hair and light green eyes complimenting her judgmentally cocked penciled-in eyebrow stood over me.

"Um," Her lips pursed, "What the hell are you doing?"

Rolling my eyes, I pushed the chair open, "The bigger question here is: What the hell are _you _doing _in my room?_"

"You looked like a squirming fish out of water so I wanted to make sure you weren't, like, dying or something," She said, taking a sudden disinterest with me. My mouth dropped open when she said that. Who did this girl think she was?

"Well," I tightened my demeanor as I began to drag myself up to my chair, "Thank you for your concern, but as you can see, I'm not dead. Or dying. So bye."

As hard as I tried, I couldn't get myself onto that _damn chair._ I was too weak from the chemo. My arms were shaking like Jell-O and my head was swimming from exhaustion in a matter of seconds. In a frustrated daze I put my forehead against the edge of the wheelchair seat.

There was an obnoxious tapping on my shoulder a few seconds later followed by the girl clearing her throat and saying, "Do you like, what any help?"

I sighed and reluctantly whispered, "Yeah."

The girl put her hands under my arms and hoisted me up to my feet. I slowly moved my legs up under me, clamping onto her shoulders for support. I felt her breath right by my ear as she eased me into the chair. I'd say the experience was dehumanizing.

"Hey hey hey!" Someone came running into the room, "What're you _doing_?"

Jordi. I had to suppress my smile.

"Whoa take a step back freak," The girl defended, "I was helping her get into her chair."

With an overly dramatic groan, she stomped out of the room.

Jordi's eyebrows were raised when he looked back at me, "Well I'd say you had a more pleasant experience meeting Kara than most."

I laughed, "Is she another red bander?"

When he chuckled his nose scrunched up – he must've seen me notice because then he shyly contained his laughter.

"So um, were you going somewhere?" Putting his hand on his neck to alleviate any nervousness he must have been feeling. I saw it. They darted back and forth and he was anxiously shifting his weight from foot to foot.

I shrugged, "No, no where specific."

He got behind my chair and pushed me out of the room.

"How're you doing?" He asked, "I mean, you look better."

"Thanks," I smiled, "I think I'm fine now. Side effects wore off after the anaphylactic shock. I'm still nauseous – probably from chemo though right?"

"Yeah I'd think so," He responded, loading me into the elevator.

Nervously I glanced around, "Um, where are we going?"

Jordi smiled weakly, "Leo wanted to hang out with us on the roof."

"Are you insane?" I snapped, starting to panic, "The _roof?_ You were going to take me without asking first? Does social anxiety mean nothing to you? Does last-night-I-threw-up-on-McAndrew-because-dying _mean nothing to you?_"

"Zuzia whoa, calm down, everything's going to be okay," He kneeled in front of my chair, "They're all cool guys. Emma's gonna be there, Leo obviously, Kara might show up – and from the looks of it she actually seems to like you –, I promise the only person you'll have to meet is Dash. And he couldn't care less about everything."

The elevator doors slid open and he concluded with, "I promise."

Not receiving an objection from me, he stood and pushed me out of the elevator all the way to a staircase.

"There seems to be a fault in your ever-so-though-out plan," I remarked, "Wheelchairs and stairs have a rocky relationship. Lots of injury claims, ended in restraining orders."

"Ha ha," Jordi contributed his sarcasm, "But I thought this through. First I thought, 'I'll just carry her,' but I know you're so stubborn that you'd refuse so then I thought, 'Okay, I'll be her crutch.' One she can heavily lean on. And one that can catch her if she topples over."

My eyes flicked up the forty something stairs, "How exactly does Leo get up these stairs?"

"He's stubborn as hell," Jordi smiled. He moved to help me up out of the chair, but I held up my hand, waving him away. Putting his hands up, he backed away.

Getting out of the chair was no problem, but staying out of the chair, that was another issue. As soon as I was at the point to bear full weight on my feet, I keeled over. Jordi rushed over and slung his arm around my waist. I didn't mention the fact his hand was _casually _underneath my sweater right on my waist.

"Ready?"

I took a sharp intake of breath and nodded. Painstakingly slow, I made it up the first ten steps or so before I became dizzy. Jordi rested my shoulder opposite him on the wall. He waited until I was ready to go on. I couldn't look at him while I was walking. I was too embarrassed. I should have though. I should've pushed away my pride and actually glanced at the kid.

We got up the stairs no problem. Hell, we even made it to where everyone was grouped together. I sat down next to Emma, who looked at me sly but reassuringly from underneath her bowler hat, and I was introduced to Dash. Jordi excused himself and said he was going to grab my wheelchair so no nurse would get suspicious over a random chair abandoned by a stairwell. I was offered beer which I politely refused. We made small talk. The usual: what I'm in for to fill Dash and Kara in, hospital gossip, big plans everyone has when they're out and free.

Soon though, I was beginning to worry about Jordi. He shouldn't have been out for so long.

"I'm gonna go see where Jordi's at," I mumbled the excuse to get out of the conversation they were having about what they plan to do for a coma patient once he wakes up.

Emma grabbed my sleeve as I stood up, "You shouldn't go alone."

"I'll be fine," I smiled, "I'll just peer down the stairwell. I'm sure he's okay."

The one time I shouldn't have been optimistic. I shuffled my way over to the stairs, conscious of the fact Emma's eyes were boring into my back as I did so. Not really seeing anything from where I was, I started to make my way down the stairs. Down the entire first flight of stairs, a cough echoed throughout the stairwell.

"Jordi?" I heaved out, frantically scanning the area. Until I saw him.

"Zuzia…" He got my name out before he slackened against the wall, his arms still wrapped around his stomach.

"Jordi!" I yelled. I quickly – as quickly as I could – got over to him. He looked deathly sick like someone with the flu. Not the "I-have-a-stomach-ache-and-fever" flu, but the "I-need-to-be-hospitalized" flu. I fell right next to him. Not really on purpose, but it worked out. My heart insanely pounded in my chest, I felt my face break out in a cold sweat, and my breathing quickened. Panic. I was panicking. I knew what I had to do. I had to call for a nurse. I put my hands against the exposed brick wall, scratching up my palms. I couldn't. I couldn't do it. My legs weren't having it. I slunk back against the wall. Gross dry sobs came out.

Footsteps were pounding towards us all of a sudden. Hyperventilating was always the next step after my hysteria in panic attacks and no way was the cycle going to falter now.

"Oh my god!" Emma? Yeah, that was Emma shrieking.

I didn't hear what she said or did next, but I knew in the next second I didn't feel Jordi next to me and someone's hands were on my shoulders.

"Shh… Sh sh shhhh…" They were consoling me, "Breathe in and hold it for four seconds. Now."

I complied but sobbed and let it go after three seconds. They made me repeat that, each time making me hold my breath longer until they got to ten seconds. My mind was clearing by the time we reached seven. I leaned my head back against the wall and closed my eyes.

"I'm sorry," I said, "I'm so sorry."

"Baby no," it was a woman, "Nothing's your fault. Jordi's going to be just fine. You did nothing to hurt him."

Nurse Jackson sat next to me. I turned to her.

"I can't do anything right. I can't talk to people normally. I can't walk right. I can't make rational decisions to make sure Jordi didn't go alone. I'm such a _screw up," _A tear rolled down my cheek. Nurse Jackson took out a little packet of Kleenex tissues and handed it to me.

"Zuzia, I want you to listen to me. Everyone has faults. For instance, I always burn macaroni and cheese," I guffawed at that and she chuckled, "It's true! It could be Kraft mac and cheese, homemade, pre-made – hell, I could even be heating it up and I'll somehow burn it in the microwave."

She paused, "Your flaw just happens to be anxiety. You worry too much about little things because, nothing is little to you, you think everything is important. You want to make sure everything is just right. But everything can't be just right when you're as sick as Jordi is. Or you are. Or Emma or Dash. Or Leo or Kara. It just can't be until the doctors and nurses get you all healed. That's our job. To make all of you just right. Don't ever think it's for you to fret about."

I took a bit to allow everything into sink in but I found myself nodding and wiping the tears from my face. Nurse Jackson stood up and extended out her hand for me to take. I put both my hands out and she grabbed them firmly. I shifted my body weight forward all onto Nurse Jackson's hands. She didn't falter. She calmly and steadily led me over to my chair.

Without another word, but in comfortable silence, she brought me back to my room.


	5. Chapter 5

After a few hours, I asked if I could go visit Jordi. Kenji brought me over to Jordi's room and then left us. Jordi was asleep when I got there so I stayed by his bedside. He had an oxygen mask on. I watched his chest move up and down and listened to his breath go in and out. The heart monitor to my right beeped along to the beat of his heart. His fingers twitched a little. Carefully, I took his hand into mine and gently rubbed my thumb back and forth against the top of his hand.

I fell into a daze from my overall tiredness. I don't know how long I sat there, but unexpectedly, my hand was squeezed. I looked up. Jordi smiled from underneath the mask. He used his other hand and briefly removed the mask.

"Hey," He said, then put the mask back in its place.

"Hey," I said softly, "How are you?"

He showed me a thumbs-up. I gave a small laugh.

I spent the rest of the evening by his side until a nurse came in to examine him.

Ever since that day, Jordi and I just got closer and closer. We were spending almost all our time together when we weren't getting check-ups or feeling _too _sick. Our chemo time was spent trying to see who can hold down their lunch the longest, him teaching me Spanish while I taught him Polish, and gently poking fun of my bald head.

Soon enough, it was the week of Christmas, December 21st. My mom was flying in tonight. The hospital was in full decorative mode. Everyone was wrapping presents. It was chaos. I knew she'd love it. I was in such bliss all day, I didn't even mind me I was scheduled for chemo earlier this week because Christmas Eve fell on a Wednesday this year and they didn't want to ruin it for me.

Needless to say I was disappointed when I found out Jordi wasn't going to be joining me in chemo anymore. Emma said he was working out some details with his social worker about whether he was or was not emancipated yet. He finished his first round of chemo and McAndrew wanted to get his surgery done but something legal was getting in the way. So, this week, I got to spend my hour in the chemo lobby with a little girl talking in my ear nonstop about her farm at home and a crotchety old man grumbling into my other ear about how chemo was ruining his Hanukkah but at the same time he was grateful to have an excuse to get away from his shmuck of a nephew.

My hour was soon up, as was my time with Ashi and Ted. Nurse Mahn unhooked me and I made it all the way to my room by myself _without having to stop for a breather._ A true Christmas miracle.

I was in the middle of reading _5__th__ Wave_ – an apocalypse book I borrowed from Emma – when I got a phone call.

I picked up, "Hello?"

"Zuzia! It's Mama!" My mom's voice rang out from the other end.

"Mamo!" I exclaimed, "What phone are you calling from?!"

She laughed, "A payphone! Can you believe it? These things still exist! My phone died on me and I couldn't find the car charger. _Kochanie, _I'm on the way to the airport!"

"Oh awesome, what time will you be at the hospital?"

"I don't know, if everything goes well, probably around eight o'clock tonight," She answered, "But I really gotta go now, the cashier is giving me nasty looks. _Dowidzenia kochanie!"_

_"Dowidzenia," _I said and hung up. I couldn't keep the smile off my face. I hadn't seen my mom in almost a month. She can never get Skype working and it's not like she has the time to use it. She's teaching at a high school forty minutes from where we live, taking care of my sick grandma, and running an evening shift at a library for extra cash. The woman barely has enough time to sleep.

"Hey," Jordi walked into the room.

"Hey, I missed you at chemo today," I smiled and scooted over on my bed to make room.

He sat down and said, "Yeah all this legal shit's going down and I'm just lost in all this paperwork. McAndrew said the state won't grant the surgery unless I'm fully emancipated. Even though McAndrew has medical custody over me."

"That's horrible…"

"Eh," He shrugged then smiled, "It's Christmas. Was that your mom you were talking to before?"

"Yeah, she's flying in tonight," I practically squealed.

Jordi gently punched my arm, "See? I told you she'd make it for Christmas."

We spent a bit of time together in my room then we went to dinner together. I took a small bowl of fries. I may have been happy but I couldn't ignore my nausea and the weird ache in my stomach. I nibbled on the fries and Jordi, Leo, Kara, Dash, and Emma animatedly chatted around the table.

"My parents are driving up to see me for the day," Leo said before attacking his chicken, "They're actually taking a work break to see me instead of traveling somewhere."

"I'd take your parents' philosophy over my moms' philosophy," Kara mumbled into her pasta, "They won't leave me alone."

"Oh come on," Dash exclaimed, "Your moms' are loaded. You should be _excited _for Christmas."

"I'm _Jewish,_" Kara seethed.

Dash put up his hands in defense, "Yo I meant no offense."

Kara rolled her eyes and shoveled a giant forkful of pasta into her mouth. Emma quietly scribbled down her food intake into her teal pleather notebook, tactfully ignoring Kara's obnoxious side-eyeing.

Amidst their quarreling, I saw Nurse Jackson rush into the cafeteria looking for someone. She caught me looking at her, smiled slightly, and waved me over to her.

I turned back to the table and, while plopping down my fries in the center, interjected, "Hey! Anyone of you want these?"

Leo and Dash both grabbed for them. I wheeled away before I could see who the victor was.

"Come here baby, let's go to your room," Nurse Jackson put her hand in between my shoulder blades to gently ease me ahead. I stopped suddenly.

"What? Why?"

"We need to talk," Nurse Jackson pressed, "Privately."

"Is something wrong?" I asked, still not moving.

"Zuzia please don't make this harder than this already is," Nurse Jackson was actually begging. Not a good sign. She moved behind the chair and started to push.

"No!" I called out. I don't know why I was being so difficult.

Nurse Jackson ignored me and kept moving me forward. I grabbed one of the wheel locks and set it. The chair skidded to the left. I stood up. Nurse Jackson put her hands in front of her.

"Zuzia, calm down. Why are you getting so worked up?"

"I – I don't know!" I cried, "Let me walk myself to my room! I don't know! I want some control!"

She bowed her head and gestured ahead for me to walk. I turned my head in the direction of my room. I could see it from where I was standing. It wasn't too far. My feet knew what to do before I did. The tops of my toes were dragging against the floor with each step, but when I put my foot down, I stood. My knees only buckled three or four times. A new personal record if I could say so myself.

I flung myself onto my bed as soon as I got in and beamed, "Nurse Jackson! Did you see that? _I did it! _I actually _did it!"_

She slid the door shut behind her and without turning around she said, "Zuzia, a hospital in Newark called."

My brow furrowed. Was I getting transferred back to Jersey? But Newark of all places…?

Nurse Jackson faced me now, saying, "An accident was reported. A tractor trailer veered off course in the snowstorm going on out there."

I sat up. What was she going on about?

"Zuzia," She took a step towards me, "There's no easy way to say this."

"Then just say it," I spat.

She took a breath, "Your mother. She died in that accident. On the way to the airport."

"What… I don't understand," I gave an uneasy laugh.

"Zuzia, your mom passed away this evening," Nurse Jackson took another, this time tentative, step towards me.

"No," I said, "I talked to her like two hours ago. And I can assure you, she was alive."

"Honey I know this is hard to come to terms with –"

I jumped to my feet, only to fall forward. Not from pain, but from dizziness. Nurse Jackson caught me before I hit the ground.

"No!" I yelled, "No you're lying, you're lying! My mom's alive! I _talked _to her!"

Nurse Jackson didn't say a word. She lifted me to my feet and waited until my hysteria got me tired enough for her to guide me to my bed. Silently crying, I curled up into the corner facing the window. Nurse Jackson brushed my hair out of my face. She gave me a final, sad look then walked out, shutting the blinds and closing the door.

Time isn't really there when you're in that much pain. With physical pain, everything seems to slow down. There's nothing worse than the unbearable pain you're in. Every muscle in your body, nerve and all the energy you have, is put towards making you realize you need to stop whatever you're doing and fix the problem. You want everything to speed up and get better. When you're in emotional pain, you merely exist. Your heart is pumping, you can move your fingers and toes, but your brain is so overwhelmed it turns into a buzzing blob. You can't feel anything; sometimes you can't hear or see anything. It's not that you suddenly lose your senses – they're still there. It's just… Everything suddenly becomes numb. Exactly like your fingers get too cold in the wintertime and no matter how much you poke and prod at them, you can't feel them until you go inside and get them warm again. In any case, you want everything to slow down. As if nothing happened to get you into the state you're in.

I'm almost certain Emma and Jordi came in at one point. They probably said their condolences, maybe stuck around for a bit until they realized nothing was going to happen. Nurse Jackson came to check my vitals as part of her daily rounds. She sat me up and once I sat up I didn't lay back down.

At one point during the day, I started to feel a little better. Not joyful by any means, but my brain wasn't numb for moment. I was aware of a conversation going on outside of my room. My blinds were still shut so I couldn't see who it was, but the mumbling voices were of a man and woman. I became conscious of the stiffness in my fingers. I glanced down at them. My fingers on my right hand were curled tightly around the one spot on my stomach that had been aching all day. I was afraid to move them.

I almost jumped out of my skin when McAndrew walked into the room.

"Good evening, Zuzia," He smiled. I hadn't seen him smile to me since I was first admitted last month.

"How are you?" He asked, walking over to the monitor, "Everything looks good. Do you think so?"

"My stomach hurts," I croaked. I'm sure that wasn't the answer he was looking for, but that ache turned into stabbing pretty quickly.

As predicted, he looked disappointed for a moment but shifted gears effortlessly.

"It hurts where you're holding?" He leaned over to make eye contact and pointed at my hand.

I only nodded. He slowly pushed me back onto the bed and lifted my shirt to expose my stomach. Peeling away my fingers, McAndrew started to push down. I screamed when he hit the spot I was holding, bolting upright. I started crying again, latching onto his lab coat.

"Please, _please,_" I sobbed into his shoulder, "It hurts so much. _Make it stop!"_

I couldn't let go of him. He tried to pull away from me, but my hands weren't letting go.

"I need a gurney in here, stat!" McAndrew shouted.

He grabbed my elbows tightly and said, "Don't worry Zuzia. Everything's fine. I got you."

He picked me up like I was a little kid and placed me on the other gurney that was wheeled in by a team of nurses. I still didn't let go and I'm pretty sure I was still yelling about the pain. This was the other pain. The physical pain. The pain where you wanted everything to speed up. Feeling both at the same time was very conflicting.

"Zuzia, I need you to let me go so I could get cleaned up," McAndrew pleaded.

"It hurts!" I cried, holding on tighter. Forcefully, he pried my hands off of him. Like magnet, they grabbed onto my stomach and held where it hurt. McAndrew ran towards the OR.


	6. Chapter 6

:McAndrew:

"On three. One. Two. Three!" I instructed my surgical team to lift Zuzia onto the OR chair. We needed to keep her in a sitting position for the procedure. Whether from the pain of that ulcer in there or a combination of that and her mother's death, she was hysterically crying.

I motioned the anesthesiologist over then put my hand on either side of Zuzia's face.

"Zuzia, look at me," I said, she kept her eyes clamped shut, but I continued on anyway, "The only way to make sure this works is if you relax. You _have to _calm down or you'll wake up and some things might not be better. Zuzia can you do that?"

I waited for her to comply, but she was terrified and in pain and grieving. She just lost her mother for Christ's sake.

"Adam," the anesthesiologist, Bennett, interrupted, "We need to do this now."

I nodded once and let her do her job. She directed Zuzia to count backwards from ten as she placed the mask over her mouth. Everyone knew she wasn't going to do anything, but we had to keep it as real as possible for her. In less than two seconds, she was out.

Bennett looked at me and nodded. I tried not to waste any time. Grabbing the endoscopic tube, I inserted it down her throat. I watched the screen anxiously. If I was wrong and this wasn't an ulcer, something serious was going on with her out of my control. If I was right and too late, there was a good chance when I felt her stomach, the ulcer erupted and bled out.

"Come on, come on," I whispered as I pushed the tube farther and farther down her throat. Zuzia coughed.

"Did you just hit her esophagus wall?" A nurse named Juthani asked.

I didn't look at her when I rejected her idea. I knew it had to be in here somewhere. Once in the stomach, I swirled the camera around in a 360.

"There!" Juthani called out. I stopped. There it was. The ulcer. About to burst.

The monitor overhead started beeping.

"BP's dropping," Bennett informed, "Adam, pull out – her BP's crazy low."

"No, I almost got it," I muttered.

"Temperature's rising! 105 degrees," Bennett said a little louder this time, "Adam, oh my god, she's at 110 degrees. Her brain is getting fried. _PULL OUT."_

The nurses started scrambling around me to get the crash cart. In one swift move, I pushed the tube forward and incinerated the ulcer. That problem was over with.

"Is there a family history of malignant hyperthermia?" Juthani screeched. I pulled the endoscopic tube out.

Zuzia's entire body convulsed once and she was now rigid on the table.

"Fuck," I whispered as nurses cloaked her in cooling blankets and ice. I grabbed the defibrillator. I knew the next step in all of this: heart and lung failure. She was dying. I had to get her shirt off, there wasn't any time before to get her into a gown. It wasn't a priority. We weren't actually cutting her open.

Bennett knew what I was thinking and began hacking away with scissors at Zuzia's shirt and bra. Another shirt I destroyed of hers. I'm going to have to reimburse her some way.

Sure enough, she then went v-fib.

"Clear!" I yelled and shocked her. I crazily watched the screen. Nothing.

"Clear!" I yelled again. Another shock. More waiting.

_"Shit, _clear!" One more time. It had to be it now. I shocked her. Everyone held their breath.

A heartbeat.

We took a second to relax, but then I yelled, "Don't waste any time! Get me an artificial respiratory pump. She's going into intensive care."

Juthani handed me the pump just as Bennett said, "Oh god, her O2 levels are low."

I fit the piece over Zuzia's mouth and squeezed the pump, giving her lungs the push they needed. A nurse covered her up and we wheeled her out towards the ICU. We only made it down the hall before Jordi and Dash ran up.

"Not now boys!" I said through clenched teeth.

"What's wrong with her?" Jordi cried out. It was a horrible feeling – ignoring a kid in distress. I took a job in the pediatric ward to help kids. I never knew how hard that would be.

"Come on man," I heard Dash urge from behind us, "Let's go. We'll go see her later."

I couldn't hear the rest of the conversation. We made it to an empty room.

The same procedure as before. On three, lift her up onto a new gurney. Get her comfortable. Put a tube down her throat. She was in respiratory failure. Being a doctor never means a step-by-step guide to how to deal with patients. You had to make impulsive calls all the time. But small little things like making sure you do your daily rounds or knowing the steps to putting a ventilator in, they keep you sane. They give a routine to follow so you don't go mad calling shots here and there all the time.

I stayed until the ventilator was in, she was cloaked in cooling blankets, and she was in her gown. Juthani and the other two nurses left with their heads bowed. Bennett hung around a little longer, but when she left, she put a hand on my shoulder comfortingly. I stood at the foot of Zuzia's bed for God knows how long. Still in full surgical gear, it was probably a sight to see. I decided it was time to let her rest. She wasn't conscious, but I always believed there was some kind of conscious part in the brain when the body wasn't awake. I thought that people could still hear in that state.

So I left. With one final look to make sure she was okay, I shut the doors. I didn't stop walking until I reached the staff room. Flinging the door open, I stormed in. I ripped my mask off and threw my gloves on the floor. I didn't know what to do with myself. I walked around the room looking for something to grab, to throw, squeeze, anything. In a sudden fit of rage, I punched the wall full force.

_"FUCK," _I shouted, clutching my hand. I leaned back heavily against the wall. Broken. My fingers or even my hand was definitely broken.

"Adam?"

I looked to the door, "Erin!"

"What're you doing in here in full gear?" Erin smiled, walking over to the kitchen and setting up the coffee maker.

Her smile dropped, "What's wrong? And what did you do to your hand?"

I stood up and walked over to her, "I almost killed my patient. Malignant hyperthermia."

"Oh my god," She breathed, taking my injured hand into hers, "Who was it?"

"The young girl from Jersey. Zuzia Baros, the girl who lost her mom earlier today," I sighed, putting my forehead in the hand Erin wasn't holding, "I should've tested her for that damn anesthesia allergy. It's my fault."

"What was she under for?"

"She had an ulcer about to burst. She was having an anxiety attack so she couldn't hold still for the tube. I had to put her under."

Erin grabbed the emergency med kit from the wall and rifled through it until she found gauze and tape.

"Well, your two fingers are broken for sure," She said softly as she taped me up, "And Adam, you know it's unreasonable to test every patient you have for an anesthesia allergy. You know how rare that is? She probably has a grandparent or great-grandparent that had it and it was undocumented. What's her heritage?"

"She's Polish-Romani. Both sets of grandparents born in communist Poland. Three of them born in labor camps. Paternal grandpa survived the Lodz ghetto."

"Exactly, don't beat yourself up over it anymore," She consoled, "She's stable now though right?"

"I have her under 24-hour watch and she's on a ventilator," I reported.

Erin gave me a small smile and went back to making her coffee.

"You know, she was in the chair. Panicking. Crying. Hysteria. All of that. And you know what I said?" I exploded, _"You know what I said? _'You have to relax.' I told a grief-stricken, anxiety-ridden sixteen-year-old girl with a bulging ulcer in her stomach that she needed _to relax_. I'm such an _ass_. Who says that to a crying kid?"

"Adam –" I cut her off.

"She's probably the sickest one out of all of those kids that she's friends with. She can barely walk on her own without falling. She has spinal cord cancer that moved into her _bone marrow_. She's allergic to adhesive and already went into anaphylactic shock because of me. She's had this preexisting anxiety condition paired with clinical depression when she was twelve. And now, I've added to that! She can't breathe on her own now! There's a really good chance she'll die by tonight!"

"Adam, stop," Erin stood directly in front of me, "You did not kill her. She's alive. She's stable. You did nothing wrong."

I put my face in my hands, "I'm going to go stay with her. Make sure she's alright. I am her medical proxy now."

As I walked out of the room, Erin called out, "Do you want me to come with you?"

I closed the door and didn't answer.


	7. Chapter 7

:Zuzia:

I had a vague feeling I wasn't in Ocean Park anymore.

"Hello?" My voice echoed. I was in an insanely bright room. It looked like some kind of lobby. The floors were white, the furniture was white, the stairs were white, and the light flooding in from outside made everything beam whiteness.

"Hello!" A little kid's voice echoed from above. I squinted and tilted my head all the way back. Who was that?

There were footsteps coming down stairs starting getting closer and closer to me.

"Hello? Where are you?" I yelled, turning around in a circle.

"Hey, over here."

My eyes met a kid's standing in front of the windows, waving. He was small, maybe 12 years old. Short, brown hair, big, brown eyes… He didn't look like anyone I knew.

"I'm Charlie. It's nice to meet you," He said, walking over to me, "Well it's probably not so nice for you. You're probably unconscious right now for some reason. Know why?"

"Uh…" I stumbled for words, "I'm getting some emergency procedure done or something. I'm not really sure. My stomach started hurting and next thing I knew I was in the OR."

Charlie nodded, "Interesting. Well, we haven't met yet. So are you new?"

"Kind of. I've been here a month," I said, "How did you know I was unconscious?"

He shrugged, "People can only see me and talk to me when they're out. I'm the pediatric ward's coma boy."

"Oh my gosh, you're the kid everyone talks about!" I smiled and extended my hand out, "My name's Zuzia."

He shook my hand and said, "Nice to meet you."

"So… Where exactly are we?" I asked, looking around.

"You know, I'm not exactly sure," Charlie chuckled, "I think it's the Ocean Park lobby but I'm not too sure. I've never been in it. Leo told me that's what it was."

"You know Leo?" I was amazed.

"Yeah, he came here when he was under for his big surgery to remove his leg."

Suddenly I felt like I was pushed by someone, and I stumbled back.

"Whoa, are you okay?" Charlie asked stepping closer to me.

"Mind if I sit down?" I said, but didn't wait for his response. I plopped down onto the ground. Charlie followed my suit.

Immediately, my light-headedness went away.

Charlie's brow furrowed, "Maybe something's going wrong with your procedure…"

"What? It can't be," I said, "McAndrew's doing it. I heard someone say he was the best in the hospital."

"Doesn't mean he can't make mistakes," He simply stated. I swallowed. He was right.

"Oh gosh," I huffed, taking off my sweatshirt, "It's getting hot in here."

"You're really sweaty."

"Thanks," I said sarcastically, "Dude, are you sure there's not an AC in here?"

"I don't know," Charlie said, "I've never had a problem with the heat. It's probably something going on outside."

"I'm running a fever?" I asked. Charlie shrugged.

Without warning, I went rigid and fell backwards. Not being able to work my lungs, I blacked out… In my own black out? The last thing I remembered hearing was Charlie saying, "See you soon!"

My eyes fluttered open. My first instinct was to rip whatever was in my throat out, but my rational side thought it was probably there to help me.

"Hey," McAndrew walked up to my bedside softly, "How're you doing?"

He was wearing a thin yellow gown over his regular clothes, a mask, and latex gloves.

He handed me a whiteboard, "Don't try to talk. It'll make you more uncomfortable. Write down what you want to say."

I took the dry erase marker from his hands. It took me awhile to get my fingers to wrap around the marker properly and even longer for me to figure out how to write again. But I managed to scribble down, my handwriting resembling a kindergartner's, "What happened?"

McAndrew sighed, "Malignant hyperthermia… Is when the body has an adverse reaction to anesthesia. In your state earlier, we had to put you under for the endoscopy procedure to prevent the ulcer in your stomach from bursting. I didn't even think to test you for the allergy – it's so rare. We think someone from your family carried the gene – possibly when the condition was unheard of. Their death would go under undetermined cause."

'My great-uncle died during an operation to remove his hand,' I wrote.

"That could've been malignant hyperthermia," McAndrew said solemnly.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I wrote the next question, 'My mom.'

I couldn't look at McAndrew when I held up the board for him to see. I knew the answer but I don't know, a part of me needed to hear it confirmed.

He hesitated before answering, "Y-Yes, Zuzia."

I started to cry harder, but no sound came out. McAndrew sat patiently until I settled down enough.

"Zuzia…" He began, "I need you to write down everything you're feeling physically right now. Malignant hyperthermia is a serious condition that we need to clear out within the next 24 hours."

I blinked in compliance and wrote, 'Bones ache, sweaty, hot, weak, headache… heart thumping awkwardly.'

McAndrew carefully read my report and nodded. He then looked up at me and smiled pitifully.

"I'm your medical proxy now. So any procedures done on you have to go through me and my consent," He explained, "I'll of course explain each and every one to you and look for you agreement."

'Just like Jordi?' I wrote.

"Just like Jordi," McAndrew agreed, and then stood, "I'll be right back. Get some rest."

Once he stood up, I noticed his wrapped fingers. I didn't know any other way to get his attention then to violently shake the bed handle.

He whipped around and ran over to me, "What? What is it? Is something wrong?"

I didn't have it in me to write, so I just pointed at his hurt hand. He brought his hand up in front of him.

"This?" He laughed, "Just an accident."

He then walked out of the ICU. My eyelids grew heavy. I gave into my fight against sleep pretty quickly. The next time I woke up was to a nurse switching out my catheter. Talk about embarrassing. And uncomfortable. She seemed too interested in my urine. She gave me detailed reports about how my urine no longer looked like coke. It was disgusting.

The next time I woke up, I woke up chocking. I grabbed at my throat. I heard my heart monitor beep frantically. McAndrew shot up from the chair in the corner of the room and rushed over. He pulled the ventilator tube out of my throat and unhooked the mask that kept the tube in place. I took a gigantic gulp of air.

McAndrew chuckled, "Feels good right? Breathing on your own?"

I smiled, a genuine smile, and croaked, "I can appreciate it more now."

He wrapped the tube up and threw it out then said, "A few more hours and I think you'll be able to go back to your room."

"Good," I said.

"Your temperature is 99.7 degrees, your BP is normal, oxygen intake is good, and you're breathing on your own," He stated, "How about the headache and bone aches?"

I rubbed my jaw as I reported, "Practically gone."

"Spectacular," McAndrew concluded, scribbling on my chart.

"You're not wearing a mask anymore," I said.

"No need," He said, "You're getting better."

I looked down at my sheets, "When do you think I'll get to leave?"

"Like I said –"

"No, like, the hospital," I said, looking into his eyes.

"Oh," He said, taken aback, "Oh Zuzia, it's really hard to say. Your first round of chemo is almost done, so then we'll get another PET scan and see how the bone marrow is doing. In the best situation, it'd be go –"

"I get it," I cut him off, looking away.

"Zuzia…" He started.

"No, I get it. I'm sick. I need to stay," I said hoarsely. The conversation ended when there was knocking coming from the windows. In the ICU, all three walls were glass so if I started seizing or something everybody could see.

Both McAndrew and I looked over and Jordi and Emma were standing there. Jordi had the goofiest smile plastered on his face. Emma solemnly smiled and waved. Jordi mouthed, 'Can we come in?' making over- exaggerated gestures mimicking coming into my room.

McAndrew looked at me for approval and I nodded towards them with a big smile. Jordi took off towards the door full speed like a five year old hocked up on sugar. I saw Emma laugh – I couldn't hear her through those thick glass – and follow after him at a much calmer pace.

McAndrew walked over to the door, where there was a clean room, then the doors to the outside hospital world. He helped Jordi and Emma put on the thin yellow robe and their gloves. He stopped Jordi before he walked in though.

"Jordi, you're going to need a mask," I heard his muffled voice through the door and watched and he waved a mask around to Jordi.

"Why only me? Does Emma need one?" He protested.

"Emma didn't run a fever this morning nor has she had chemo in the past two weeks," McAndrew didn't wait for agreement before he slid the mask over Jordi's mouth and nose, "And under no circumstances is that to come off."

Jordi rolled his eyes then pivoted to face me, "Is it safe to come in?"

I smiled, but McAndrew cut us off, "Nope, but in twenty seconds it will be."

"Oh come on, you're killing me here!" Jordi joked.

McAndrew winked at me and pressed a button that sounded like a cosmic black hole was being opened outside of my room. The sound made me feel crappier than I already felt. I was still sporting a fever after all, which meant my immune system was still fighting God knows what off in my body.

Once the black hole ceased exploding my ear drums, Jordi flew in and ran right to my bedside. McAndrew slid out without a word.

"Hey!" He said, rolling a stool up next to me.

"How've you been Zuzia? We've been so worried!" Emma walked in. She was basically strutting, trying to keep her balance in those pumps she was wearing while trying to look sophisticated.

"Yeah, we couldn't get in to see you for days," Jordi breathed, looking down and running his thumb across the back of my hand. The latex of the glove made the gesture significantly less soothing.

"Speaking of that," I said, completely avoiding the topic of my health, "What day is it today?"

Emma and Jordi exchanged looks before Emma said, "It's December 23, well in a couple hours it'll be Christmas Eve."

I nodded slowly while taking the information in. I'd been out for almost three days? Damn. And now I'm going to miss Christmas.

"But it's okay," Jordi spit out, "McAndrew said you'll be fine for dinner tomorrow! And definitely fine for Christmas."

I could feel his smile radiate from underneath that mask. Jesus, I wanted to kiss him. Not enough to risk death though. That's just unhealthy. Pun not intended.

"I feel bad –" I started, but I panicked Emma flew in.

"What? What's wrong? Should I call a nurse?" Emma started skimming over my vitals like they meant anything to her.

"I _meant,"_ I laughed – then coughed because being in respiratory failure a couple hours ago really screwed with my lungs –, "I feel bad because I didn't have time to go out and get you guys gifts. I have nothing. I was going to go out with my mom once she flew in…"

I thought I could make it through that story. I really did.

"Zuzia…" Emma consoled and sat down next to me on my bed, "I – I'm sorry."

I took the hand that Jordi wasn't holding and wiped my eyes, "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have mentioned it."

"Hey, hey, stop it," Jordi whispered, squeezing my hand, "Nothing's your fault right now. Don't put this on yourself."

"I – I know. I'm just…" I struggled to think of the right word, "_Sad."_

"And that's totally reasonable," Emma concluded very smartly.

I guffawed, and Emma said, "What?"

Jordi caught on and stifled his laugh too.

"It's nothing," I said softly, leaning my head back onto my pillow fully.

"No wait," Emma said frantically, "Was that not the right thing to say? Tell me and I won't say it again. It won't hurt my feelings. If anything it'll make me feel better knowing that –"

"Emma _relax_," Jordi chuckled, "You're good."

He looked at me before continuing, "It was just a very… _Emma _thing to say."

"Oh," Emma said, "Is that okay?"

"Yes," I smiled. Then just as Emma opened her mouth to talk again knocking came from the window again.

We all turned to find McAndrew standing there. He pointed at Jordi and Emma, then at the door, then at me and mimicked sleeping. He finished his charades off with a thumbs-up sign, and then swiftly walked away.

Emma said goodbye and gave my hand a squeeze as giving a hug when I could barely sit up didn't seem like too smart of an idea. She looked at Jordi.

"Oh, I'll catch up with you in a minute," He smiled. Emma nodded and with a final wave she walked out.

Jordi turned back to me.

"Any particular reason you wanted to hang back?" I teased softly, my eyes growing wearier by the second.

"You mean a lot to me Zuzia…" He scratched the back of his neck, getting nervous to continue, "I really want you to get better. Please make sure you'll get better."

"Well I'm not striving to die Jordi," I said, "It hasn't gotten to that point yet. Where is this coming from?"

Jordi took a big breath in, "When I saw you being wheeled down from the OR… It looked like you were dying. Nobody told me what was wrong. Maybe – possibly – if I could help. And I was _scared. _I've seen people in those situations before and it never made me feel like I felt when I saw you like that. And I don't want to see you like that again."

He stopped talking and then we locked eyes. I slowly slid my hand out of his and fingered the edge of the mask. I then pulled it down.

"What're you doing?" Jordi said, "I might make you worse."

"I'm feeling a lot better," I whispered. I leaned toward him and before either of us knew it, we kissed. Not for long though, because someone was knocking at the glass again.

The sound nearly made Jordi and me jump out of our skin. He whipped around and looked over his shoulder. McAndrew was standing on the other side. He looked so pissed.

'What do you think you're doing,' he mouthed and held his arms out wide. My eyes were wide and I was gnawing on my lip.

'You,' he pointed at Jordi, 'Come here,' he pointed to the ground next to him.

Jordi scurried out of the room.

As he was taking off all the ICU gear, McAndrew pointed at me, 'You, sleep' then mimicked sleeping.

Not breaking eye contact with him, I slid down further into my bed. Jordi slowly shuffled into view. McAndrew looked ready to explode. I decided to log out of the world at that moment and closed my eyes, willing myself to fall asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

:McAndrew:

"Do you know how s_tupid _that was?" I felt bad for yelling at the love-struck kid, but what he did was inexcusable.

"I know, Doctor McAndrew," Jordi hung his head. I grabbed his arm and guided him away from the window so we wouldn't distract Zuzia.

"Do you realize how serious her condition is right now?" I scolded, pointing at her room behind me.

"I – I know, I'm really sorry," Jordi frantically apologized.

"You better hope her fever breaks soon, or we're all in trouble," I said, leaning against the wall I rubbed my eyes in an attempt to clear the headache I felt coming on.

"Is she going to be okay?" Jordi practically pleaded. I looked up at him. He was wringing his hands around so much I thought they'd swing off.

Grabbing his hands, I said, "Let's hope so."

I turned to walk away but stopped suddenly when my pager went off. I took it out of my pocket and glanced at the room number. 243.

"Oh shit," I mumbled, and took off back into Zuzia's room. I heard Jordi's footsteps trailing behind me.

"Stay out of the room, Jordi," I ordered before he could follow me in. He stopped immediately, but then ran around the corner to the windows.

I dashed in without putting on any of the gear, "Update me."

Nurse Jackson was standing right by Zuzia's heart monitor and had her hand resting on Zuzia's head. Her eyes brimmed with tears when she looked up at me.

"Nurse Jackson! Come on!" I ordered while putting my gloves on.

"Adam, I'm pretty sure she's in a coma," Nurse Jackson whispered. That's it. That's when my world ended. I never got this attached to patients. I've seen kids significantly younger than Zuzia die of horrible diseases or get news of horrible futures. Why all of a sudden did my heart feel like it was being ripped out over a kid I met last month?

"No," I said, moving to Zuzia's monitor, "Her vitals are in-check. She's breathing. No sign of distress. Did she seize? Go into cardiac arrest? Repertory arrest? Anything that could've made her fall into a coma?"

Jackson almost looked hysterical, "Nothing! I got a page saying her fever broke, so I rushed in and when I sat her up to check her lungs, she collapsed backwards."

"Then she fainted," I concluded, leaning over her bed to check her pupils. Unresponsive.

"It wasn't a fainting spell, Adam. Stop that," Jackson said harshly, grabbing my hand from attempting to wake her up, "The best thing you can do for this girl is to have her on watch until her lungs fail, then put her back on that ventilator."

"Her fever broke, this is not a coma," I seethed, ripping my hand from her grip, but while doing so I lost my balance. To steady myself my hand flew to whatever was directly to my side and what happened to be there was Zuzia's leg.

She shot up from her bed in a split-second. Jackson and I both screamed and jumped back, but Zuzia grabbed my sleeve before I could get anywhere.

"Zuzia, you need to tell me what's wrong," I said slowly, grabbing her forearm. She was clenching so tightly to my sleeve, I couldn't pry her off. She didn't respond.

"Zuzanna," I said, more authoritatively, "What's wrong?"

This girl just woke herself up out of a coma, there had to be a reason for that. Did my leaning on her leg cause sudden pain that stimulated her brain?

"Tell us your name," I decided to start simple, "Full name. First, middle, last."

Through clenched teeth, she managed to get out, "Zuzanna Lilia Baros."

"Where are you right now?"

"ICU. Ocean Park," She responded, she was heaving.

"What hurts?" Nothing. No response.

"Zuzia, it's a simple question. What _hurts?_"

"Nothing," She gasped, clenching her eyes, "That's the problem. I feel _nothing._"

I stared at her, "Numb? Tingling?"

_"Nothing,_" She repeated more forcefully, "I can't feel my legs."

"Okay, I need to see," And with that her grip slackened and I was able to quickly step out of the way. Nurse Jackson took my place.

My mind was racing with possibilities. Had her tumor metastasized again? Were we too late? The chemo obviously wasn't working. Paralysis had already set in. I pulled back the sheets to reveal her feet. Then taking out a pen from my pocket, I poked each one of her toes.

"Feel anything?" I asked, watching her reaction.

She bit her lip and shook her head, "No."

I clicked the pen shut and looked her in the eye, "I'm going to order a PET scan for tomorrow as early as I can get it."

The disappointment in Zuzia's eyes ate away at me, so with a smile, I added, "So I won't have to bother your Christmas."

She gave me a small smile, one of the few genuine ones I received from her. I turned to walk out of her room and made it all the way out into the hallway before I turned around and stuck my head back into the room.

"Also," I chimed, both Nurse Jackson and Zuzia looking equally surprised, "I'm sure you can get settled back into your true room now."

She smiled wider now and said, "Thanks so much."

"No problem, you did all the work," I winked and walked out of the room. Jordi bombarded me within a few steps.

"How is she?" He asked.

Sighing, I continued walking forward, "Jordi, you know I can't discuss other patients with non-family members."

He ran to catch up with me, "I know, Doctor McAndrew. I just want to know if she's better now. A yes or no answer. _Please."_

"She's being moved back into her room as we speak," I smiled at him when I stopped at the desk to deliver Zuzia's notes. That was when I got a good look at him. His cheeks were sunken in more than usual, his skin was paler, his eyes sagged, and beads of sweat pooled around his eyebrows.

"Jordi, are you feeling okay?" I took a step closer to him and put my hand on his forehead.

He jerked away, "Yeah, I feel fine."

Irritability.

"Let's go back to your room," I suggested, "Come on, I'll walk with you."

Not seeing an issue with this, Jordi shuffled alongside me. Before long, he doubled over and gripped his leg.

"What's wrong?" I hurried over.

"I – I don't know. My leg's just acting up," Jordi assured, massaging his calf.

"I need a wheelchair over here!" I called out, and then looked back at Jordi, "I'm going to order a PET scan for you for tomorrow. We need to check this leg out."

As Jordi was eased into a wheelchair, I said, "And don't worry about Zuzia. She's going to be fine. Just like you are."

He nodded once and the nurse wheeled him towards the elevators. Once he was out of sight, I made my final decision. I needed to consult the chief of staff. Marching down the stairs, I didn't stop until I reached my boss' door. I pounded on the door, not thinking consequently.

Erin opened the door looking flustered and, frankly, pissed.

"Adam, what is it?" She hissed, "I'm in the middle of a meeting."

"I need to talk to you _now,_" I demanded.

"We can talk about whatever you need to, _later,_" She hissed and turned back to her door.

I didn't let her go back in, "I'm not taking on any more patients."

She stopped, and slowly turned around, "Adam, you aren't nearly qualified to do that. Last time I checked, you only had fourteen complex patients."

"Yeah well, I'm done taking on more," I concluded, throwing my arms out to the side.

"We're discussing this," She replied sternly and sharply walked back into her office. With a sigh I threw myself down onto the bench outside of her office. If only I had an office. I'd get shit done. How am I supposed to fill out paperwork in the lounge? How does she _expect _me to fill out paperwork in the lounge?

"Thank you, Mrs. Cuddy. It was a pleasure," Erin said over her shoulder as she led whoever she was speaking to out, "I'll be expecting a call soon?"

Mrs. Cuddy laughed, "Yes, no later than Tuesday."

"Thank you," Erin smiled and waited for the representative to get out of hearing distance before she turned to me. Her eyes went stone-like.

"Come on in, Adam," She suggested harshly. I followed her in. She sat behind her desk; arms crossed and face cross.

"I hope you have excellent reasoning behind this."

"I need to put all my time and effort to getting my current patients better and keeping them alive. And I do not believe the best way to do that is admitting even more patients into my care," I reasoned.

She opened a drawer in her desk and began rummaging through it. When she was done, she plopped my file down on her desk. She didn't say a word as she flipped through the pages.

"You have eleven complex patients, Adam," She summarized for me, "And 37 clinic patients. That's hardly enough for a closure."

I snapped, "Dr. Grace, you'll be seeing a lot _less _complex patients under my care soon if you don't seriously consider my proposal to withdraw. Kara's tachycardia is off the charts, Jordi just crippled over in pain walking with me in the hall, Leo's fighting with his prosthetic, Hunter's in extreme liver failure, Charlie's not waking up, and Zuzia just got the news that she's paralyzed and I'm afraid she won't make a comeback. Not to _mention _my four year old, Harry, with retinal cancer who's losing his eye sometime in the next month and Eleanor, my ten year old, _with breast cancer. _Hell, that's not even all of them! There's Dash with his cystic fibrosis who's skipping his treatments, there's Angelina with juvenile arthritis who can't even hold her own head up, there's Elaine wi –"

"Alright!" Erin interrupted, holding up a hand, "I get it. You have a heavy workload –"

"This isn't a _workload_, Dr. Grace," I spit, "These kids' lives are critically endangered and I'm trying to get them back on their feet, quite literally sometimes, but I can't do that accurately enough if I'm stuck wasting up to three hours in the clinic convincing the old lady with liver spots that they're just liver spots and negotiating with the drug addict that comes in for injections weekly."

Silence fell around us. You could hear a pin drop, once you took out my heavy breathing.

"I realize this is a difficult time for you," Erin cleared her throat, "You _are_ the medical proxy of two kids now and I can only imagine what that feels like, but I – I don't know if I can do this."

I leaned forward onto her desk, careful not to put pressure onto my broken fingers, saying, "I need to work on the cases I have now with full attention or there's no knowing what could go wrong."

We locked eyes until she finally gave in, "Okay, you don't have to take on any new patients and I'll revoke your clinic hours."

I straightened, relieved, "Thank you, Dr. Grace."

"Not a problem, Dr. McAndrew," She nodded once. No smile.

I began to walk out, but she continued talking, "Adam, are we really going to do this? Pretend like nothing ever happened?"

With my back turned to her and my hand on the doorknob, I didn't look back when I said, "I have patients to treat, Dr. Grace."

And walked out.


	9. Chapter 9

_**This chapter includes some graphic, descriptive scenes. Read at your own discretion. **_

:Zuzia:

I was allowed to be wheeled out of my room for Christmas Eve dinner and Christmas breakfast, where I absent-mindedly poked at my turkey and waffles, allowing for conversations to float around me. Jordi offered to take me back into my room after both dinners, I agreed, but I couldn't get much of a conversation out while he pushed my chair. He helped me into bed and lingered around for a bit, trying to coax a smile out of me or keep a conversation going with me.

On Christmas after dinner, just as he was leaving, he said, "Are you… Are you mad at me?"

I looked at him and slowly shook my head, "No, of course not."

"Then why aren't you talking to me?" He was begging me to give him a reason.

I looked at him for a long time before I could answer, "I'm not purposefully not talking to you."

"Do you not feel good?" He asked, sitting down at my feet, careful not to touch them. Not like I'd feel it.

"I guess I feel fine, I don't know," I shrugged it off. Christmas wasn't the same without my mom. I had accepted the fact that she is gone, it probably helps that I'm not at home and not surrounded by her things. She had this beautiful barrette she'd use in her hair before she cut it all off. It was a purposefully shabby silver clip with glass soft pink roses attached to a soft green vine decorating it. I loved to steal it from her and pin my own hair with it, but I was always too afraid to leave her bathroom with it.

"Alright… When you wanna talk, I'll be here," Jordi assured with a small smile before he walk out. He passed Dr. McAndrew on the way out. McAndrew was holding a sloppily wrapped package that had a little red bow stuck on the top. They exchanged greetings.

"Merry Christmas Zuzia," McAndrew said, trying to be cheerful.

"Merry Christmas," I replied politely.

"This is for you," He extended the package out to me and watching me unwrap it he said, "It's a little reimbursement for those times I ruined your wardrobe."

I pulled out two _gorgeous _shirts from the wrapping paper. My eyes lit up. One wasn't really a shirt though. It was a baggy mustard-colored knitted cardigan with an insanely low V-neck drop, large tan buttons at the bottom and two droopy pockets. The other was a simple button down long-sleeved shirt, but the color was what made it for me. It was a dark teal/turquoise that I could match with anything in my wardrobe.

I looked up at McAndrew, "You didn't have to do this. I'm fine with two less shirts."

"It was my pleasure," He brushed off.

"Thank you!" I said. My hands kept rubbing the material of the clothes.

He sat down on the stool that seemed to just float around my room. One day it was next to my bed, the next day it was by the couch. He pulled out a large picture from a huge manila envelope I didn't even see him come in with. Pushing himself backwards on the stool all the way to the light-up x-ray clip machine thing hanging on the wall, he stuck the picture into it. Damn, did that picture light up.

"This is the result of your PET scan yesterday, Zuzia," He began, then pointed to all the bright spaces, "The cancer in your bone marrow seems to be improving greatly, it's depleted about 70%, which is _amazing. _I couldn't have asked for a better response to keep myself –" that made me smile "–except, as predicted, the spinal tumor hasn't been reacting too well. It grew about 7% percent in size since you came in with the scans from New Jersey, which was enough to push your spinal cord enough to cause your paralysis. Now our best option right now is to do the spinal decompression surgery, remove that tumor, and let you recover from that. Then we can start up again on the chemo."

I let the information wash over me. This wasn't the best Christmas I could have, but at least I was getting somewhere.

"When?" I asked.

"I've booked the OR for the fifth of January."

"Nothing earlier?" I tried to hide my disappointment.

He looked taken aback, "It's the holiday season and it's hard to get nurses on board with this. I can try to see if I can move it up to the Saturday after New Year's –"

"No, it's fine," I assured, "I was just curious."

He gave a small smile before he stood up and, while taking down the scan, he said, "I'll be sure to tell the nurses that you can leave your room today. You don't need to be cooped up in here on Christmas."

I smiled and thanked him again before he left.

I sat in bed for a little while – maybe one hour or two? – before everyone, and I mean _everyone, _came rushing into my room. They were all carrying these huge overstuffed bags which looked to be stuffed with gifts.

"MERRY CHRISTMAS!" A chorus was thrown at me.

I laughed a true, genuine laugh and said, "Merry Christmas, you guys!"

Dash, Leo, Emma, Jordi, hell, even Kara, all settled themselves around my bed.

"We have brought the spirit of Christmas," Leo announced, "To _you!"_

He began rifling through his bag of gifts, "Everyone get out your first gift!"

The awkwardness of the situation ate away at me. I had nothing for anyone. I just didn't have the time. The past week I've been sick from chemo or just sick from going to the brink of death.

Jordi squeezed my hand. I looked at him.

"Don't worry," He whispered, and when I smiled, he added, "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," I whispered back.

"Hey! Lovebirds, I hate to interrupt, but we got some business to attend it," Dash called out.

"Sorry man," Jordi laughed it off, but didn't let go of my hand. He did our signature gesture: gently rubbing his thumb over the back of my hand. That misunderstanding this morning must've settled itself.

"My first gift," Leo started up again, in a very loud voice, "is for the one and only… Drumroll please?"

Everyone stamped their feet or used their hands to create the noise. Even Kara, though she rolled her eyes, joined in.

"Zuzia!" He declared. I laughed. He stood up and bowed, holding out a small box out. It was wrapped in a Charlie Brown Christmas wrapping paper. I peeled off the wrapping paper, aware everyone just wanted to see what I got. I held the little box in my hand; it had to be some kind of jewelry. I popped open the lid and inside was a little golden nose ring. I plucked it out of the box and examined it with the biggest smile on my face.

"I noticed you had a piercing, but never wore anything in it. So I thought hey," Leo shrugged, "why not?"

"Aw thanks man! I love it," I said and held out my arms for a hug. Leo bashfully stood up and accepted the hug, leaning over my bed. Everyone laughed, Jordi wooted jokingly.

We went around the circle, everyone giving out their first gift. Emma went next and it was no surprise she gave her first gift to Leo. He received a red and white Manchester United beanie with a little pom-pom on top. They exchanged pecks on the cheek to which one can imagine how a room full of mature, level-headed sick teenagers would react to. Dash was up next and, surprisingly, his gift went to Kara. Kara looked pretty damn astonished, but so did everyone else in the room. When she opened the gift she found a small brown leather over-the-shoulder bag.

"What's this for?" She commented, holding it like it was nothing.

Dash shrugged, "It's for your heart monitor. So you won't have to carry it around on display."

Nobody could deny the blush that crept up Kara's cheeks and how flustered she was. Kara then presented her first gift to Jordi, as he was the only one left that hadn't gotten a first gift yet. She gave him a small box and out of that box came a Mexican flag keychain. Everyone's reaction was priceless, but I'd say they were good reactions.

Thank God they just skipped over me right to Jordi after Kara. Jordi gave me his first gift. I practically threw the lid off of the box and pulled out… A dress. A traditional Polish _Gorolka _dress. The petticoat, vest, undershirt, and skirt were all there. The embroidered flowers looked hand-stitched.

I was lost for words.

Jordi quickly jumped to an explanation, "This one we all pitched in on. Your grandma sent it over for your coming of age party. She hand-stitched it and made it for you. She told us to tell you to look in the vest for something."

When I reached to look for that something, Jordi grabbed my hand, "When you're alone, she said."

Then gave me a small smile.

"But…" I started slowly, "My coming of age party isn't until I'm seventeen."

They all exchanged looks, and Emma said, "The something in the vest apparently explains it all."

I nodded, but I knew the reason. _Just in case. _Just in case I didn't make it next year to seventeen, my babcia wanted to make sure I got the party every _Gorolka _deserved.

I thanked everyone with a big hug and we moved on. There were to be no sour topics discussed on Christmas. Instead of going around in a circle again everyone just tossed their presents to one another and we all opened them in a big flurry of wrapping paper. In the end, I received a few new head scarves from Kara, a T-shirt with his own artwork on it from Dash, and a flowery journal from Emma. It still upset me that I couldn't get anyone any gifts, but I'll make it up to them somehow.

We hung out for a long while until parents started coming in and collecting their kids. One by one, Leo, then Emma, then Kara, and lastly Dash were called out of my room leaving Jordi and me behind.

"Well my _abuela _or my mom sure aren't coming," Jordi smiled, "Mind if I stay here?"

"Of course not," I said, patting the available space next to me on my bed. Jordi sat where I indicated. We sat in silence for a couple of minutes, not a word was uttered. He slowly laid down next to me. There was barely enough room for him. We made eye contact and laughed for a solid minute before he got up and moved to the other side of my bed.

"May I?" he asked, I laughed my agreement. He gently took his hands and placed them around my hips, pulling me closer to him.

"Comfortable?" I nodded as he took my legs and positioned them for me. Before he went back to his spot, he went over to the window and closed the blinds.

"What are you doing?" I whispered with wide eyes. He put a finger to his lips and smirked, then resumed his place back in my bed. I turned my upper body towards him and he moved my lower. Even though I couldn't feel it, I knew his hand went to my butt. I decided to keep quiet about it.

We were facing each other, practically nose to nose. Our breaths synced. I put my arm around Jordi's neck and simultaneously he placed his arm around my waist. He dragged me closer to him. I giggled, which made him giggle which set us into a giggling fit. I rested my forehead on his chest after our laughing had dwindled down. We seemed content with the silence, but it wasn't silence. Our presence took up the entire room. What we – well, at least I – was feeling filled up every little nook and cranny in my hospital room.

And everything pretty much exploded when his lips reached mine. It got more and more intense by the second. His hands started to fiddle with my hospital gown and I let him open up the top. It's not like I was wearing a bra. Just in case they needed to defib me, I wasn't allowed to. His hands roamed everywhere. And trust me, so did mine. His flannel was unbuttoned pretty fast.

It didn't get very far before I pushed him off of me.

"Shit," I said, closing up my gown and eyeing the clock on the wall.

"What? Oh my god, what? What happened? Did I hurt you?" Jordi panicked, jumping off me, yet staying in my bed.

"No, it's just, Jackson or Kenji will be here any second now," I said quickly, my hands shaking so much I couldn't tie my gown back up.

"Why? You have a check-up?" Jordi asked, moving my hands away from the strings of my gown.

"Uh no," I admitted, suddenly embarrassed, "I can't exactly _do my business _on my own anymore."

It took him a second, but he got it.

"Oh," He said simply, "Alright, I'll leave obviously."

"Sorry," I said, _really _embarrassed now. As he finished buttoning his shirt, he kissed my forehead.

"Don't be," He said, and left my room with a wave.

Just as I predicted, Nurse Jackson walked in just a few minutes after Jordi left rolling in a cart full of the equipment.

"Ready Zuzia?" She asked, trying to make this as normal as possible. Even though it most certainly wasn't. It was my first time going through it and I honestly had no idea what to expect. So I nodded and decided to just go with it.

Nurse Jackson put on her gloves and explained everything she was going to do as she set up, but I blocked most of her explanation out because it was just too weird. All I retained was that there are two types of bowels a paralyzed person can have and that we were going to find out which one I had today.

"Is this really how you want to spend your Christmas?" I asked as she turned me onto my left side.

She laughed as she brought my right knee to my chest, "Not particularly, but I'm going to assume this is going to be worse for you."

I chuckled awkwardly, trying to fill the space. She instructed me to twist my upper body so my chest was on the bed and my head of facing the way my butt was. Once I was in that position, she untied the back of my gown, exposing my entire backside.

"Now, this may or may not hurt," She warned, "It varies from person to person."

I nodded. To be honest, I was so petrified about what was going to happen next, I couldn't talk.

The whole process was pretty gross and extremely dehumanizing. Towards the end, she placed a capsule in there that was supposed to soften anything else coming out. She actually held my butt together for about ten minutes to make sure it wouldn't fall out. Then, to add another thing on top of it all, she rolled me onto my back after tying my gown back up, attached gynecology stirrups onto the end of my bed, placed my feet _in _those stirrups, and proceeded to wipe me down. I was then slipped into an adult diaper to prevent an accident from occurring.

As she was cleaning up, I asked, "Is this going to be my life now?"

Nurse Jackson looked up at me, "For the time being, yes."

"How often do I have to do this?"

"For right now, every two days. Then it should happen three times a week, saving any emergencies that happen."

I looked up at the ceiling. Jackson obviously sensed my distress and said, "The diaper is temporary, hon. It's only to make sure you won't soil the bed. You'll be getting your permanent catheter sometime tomorrow."

I lifted the covers and looked down at the diaper, "After my operation, I'll be able to walk again, right?"

"That's what we're shooting for," Nurse Jackson smiled, "Press the call button if anything happens."

Then she left. She left the blinds closed and shut the door behind her.

Not surprisingly, I shit myself half an hour later. Kenji came running in to change me. Like I was an infant. He got out the stirrups and set me up just like Nurse Jackson did. Meticulously taking the diaper off, he wiped me down. Not only was it embarrassing because he was a dude, but this time, he put a foam block under my lower back and put a long tube in there. And fuck, did I feel it. Basically, that thing was a hose. It watered my colon and bowel and anus and everything to clean it from possibly infection.

Possibly the most dehumanizing Christmas of my life.


End file.
